F.A.T. (Freddie,Ash,Trioxin) A horror troika
by damadskribbler
Summary: Freddie, Ash, and an 'easter egg' of trioxin! send it up the flagpole and see who salutes it!


"Freddy, Ash, Trioxin: a horror Troika."

story/idea ©2001 Tim Burns. all respective characters and situations © & ™ of their owners.

He was burned.

From head to toe, he was covered in scar tissue. Third Degree burns. Normally, the average human being cannot sustain over 70% burn trauma over their body and live. But he did. There was no part of his body that wasn't ravaged. Such massive damage usually causes the victim to be in constant pain, even when not moving. Even being alive hurts.

But he felt fine.

In fact he was out for a little midnight stroll. Wearing his usual attire, you would've thought him a strange sight: battered brown fedora, filthy green and red striped sweater, (so dirty it looked black and red) muddy

Pants the color of night, and heavy work boots ('arbeit macht frei' is a phrase he TRULY believed in! 'work makes you free'. Didn't matter that the Nazi's put it above their concentration camps as a joke, they were HIS kinda guys! ).

There was another strange thing about him besides his odd attire. His right hand. Or more specifically, his _fingernails. _They were so _long_. There was something _wrong with them. _But the only way to see what they really were was to get close to them. And that's the last thing you ever did. Those who had seen what they were couldn't tell the living.

__

Where he walked was as odd and as terrifying as his appearance. Most people do not go 'walking after midnight' in the heart of the Tennessee woods. Especially not miles away from roads, cities or neighborhoods.

On a lone road without any traffic, he closed in on his objective.

A hunters cabin. A dilapidated shack, really. A place to get away from the city and relax for a little while.

To read, to fish, 'perchance to dream'.

But it had been a long time since this cabin had been used. Even longer still since anyone had 'relaxed' in it's wooden confines.

As he neared it, he could see what condition it was in. Roof sagging, screen door slamming back and forth on its hinges, it was blatantly abandoned. The wind picked up. Blew the leaves around in a swirl of auburn dust devils.

__

My friends. You have lead me to this place and I thank you. As always I live to do your work and with this gift I will make the world a hell on earth. A living, waking nightmare. Thank you, my masters. My faithful guides.

  
He walked through the door and found what he was looking for in the front room.

There it was. On the table right next to the reel to reel._ Pick it up. Read it._

" 'Necronomicon Ex Mortis'."

with this book, he could unleash an ARMY of evil to do his will! He would be unbeatable!

He reached down to push the play button on the recorder. And was stopped by a voice behind him.

"Hold on there a second spinach chin, whaddya think yer doing?"

__

What?!? How DARE some lil' piggy disturb him?! Whoever they are, they'll PAY.

He turned around ready to slice and dice, and met this... _FREAK_! That was the ONLY way to describe him!

He was at LEAST as twisted himself. HAD to be. Even if he wasn't supernatural, he SURELY wasn't NORMAL. The little nut had a CHAINSAW where his hand should be! And he looked like he knew how to use it. In fact, he didn't even seem to be SURPRISED!For once in his many encounters with mortals, he was taken aback. Actually slack jawed in surprise by the Idiot with the chainsaw and shotgun.

_Compose yourself! You're an Ambassador of evil! _"What's yer name hero? I wanna know who to send the pieces to...."

"The names Ash to my friends, which you're not, Pruneface. You can call me Mr. S-Mart. Now spread out and put the book back on the table and no one gets hurt."

"Awww, but I so wanted this book for my very own! Tellya what: we'll play 'paper/rock/scissors' for it.

I ALREADY have the scissors!" He clicked his blades, laughing, making quick movements with his fingers.

"No thanks; we'll use mine." Ash started up the chainsaw and assumed a combat position.

__

This bozo could seriously put a crimp in my plans! Better shake him up a bit...

Freddie Krueger hit the play button on the recorder and went for the book.

"Oh No! Not AGAIN!" Ash reached for the tape deck and shut it off, for once stopping it before the Evil could get going in earnest.

"Doesn't matter Edward STIHL hands! I got the book! And now I'll unleash a reign of Evil that will be unstoppable! Even you and your Lil' chainsaw can't stop me! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

He threw back his head and laughed, laughed, laughed. 

Mr. Krueger had encountered many people in his life and afterlife, but never anyone who dealt with supernatural menaces on a semi-regular basis. But then again, this was his first run in with Ashley Willford,

Hardware. And most likely, his last.

While he was gloating over the fact that he had the book, Ash cut off his hand. Not only his hand, but his GLOVED hand. The personification of his power. His SYMBOL of Evil, if you will.

He was laughing so hard, thinking he had won that he didn't notice the hand holding the book fall off.

He didn't hear the _clang _of the finger blades hitting the floor over the buzz and howl of the chainsaw.

It was only after he stopped laughing so hard and LOOKED where his hand should be that he realized that something was wrong. Now he was in trouble. He _was_ Supernatural and he _really_ couldn't die. That was beyond him now. But he _could _be _Defeated._ And that he _couldn't stand_. To actually think of spending another decade or two (or another century!) in Hell waiting for some fool to release him was unbearable!

So, he picked up his hand and ran.

He couldn't carry his hand and the book at the same time so he left the book for later._ He who fights and runs away..._

While he was doing this, Ash was scrambling for the book. In fact, If ash had finished the job, he wouldn't have had to worry about the book. But hindsight is 20/20 and no one thinks of everything. Otherwise we'd be perfect.

__

Who is this Asshole? Whoever he is, he never met up with sunscreen that's for sure. Gotta stop old Applehead before he regroups. Now where'd he go? Ash proceeded to carefully check the rooms.

And that was his second mistake. Because while he was carefully going from room to room shotgun and chainsaw at the ready, Krueger had ran pell-mell for the cellar. The voices of evil had told him what he needed to know to get rid of this pest.

__

Maybe it was the evil of the cabin. Maybe it was the presence of the Necronomicon. It might have been just pure chance. But what the voices had told him were true: There was an Equalizer in the cellar. And its name was TRIOXIN.

A metal drum with a glass window on top, it stood about 4' high by 1 1/2' wide it had a phone # stenciled on it.

He looked around for 2 things: A pry bar and a phone.

When Ash had searched all the rooms and had not found old Tall, Dark and Gruesome, He knew where he had to be: In the cellar. Opening the steel ringed portal in the floor he shone a flashlight on the stairs. Until he got the lights on, he wasn't trusting anything. His Girl and Friends had died here and since then he took no chances.

"Brains..."

The moment the Creature got out of the tank it looked and the man._ Dead. No brains. The PAIN! Oh god, the pain! _ It would try him anyway. Maybe there were some brains left over. But before it could, the door in the ceiling opened. And it could SMELL. 

The Fresh Live BRAINS of someone! 

In trioxin victims, exposure causes a slow, painful death. Then, In a neurological process that the army doctors don't fully understand, the mental and physical processes of life continue in a kind of shadow existence. There is neither pulmonary action nor any standard response to stimuli. But the victim is conscious, and in constant pain. The only thing that relieves that pain is endorphins. Naturally occurring in the brain, they are 10,000 times more powerful than morphine. And, unfortunately, the undead can SMELL them.

NORAD/SAC in Colorado got a strange call. This phone had only rang one time before and shortly after, downtown Knoxville, Tennessee had disappeared. The Duty officer who took it thought it was a crank call until the gravelly voice on the other end of the line rattled off the serial numbers. "You opened it? And it did WHAT? I see. Near a graveyard, huh? And It 'awoke the dead'? You say there's hundreds of them? (Oh god). Hold on a second, sir..."

Ash waited for the deadite (trioxin based, but he didn't know that) to run up the stairs before shooting it in the head and then cutting up the pieces as they wiggled around. "What's WITH this thing? Hey Screwface, 

What'd you do? This isn't your standard undead! And how the hell did you get it possessed so fast? You hiding some extra friends on me Knucklehead?"

"The name's Freddy! Freddy Krueger! Dammit! Not Spinach Chin, Knucklehead, or any other STUPID phrase you have! Remember it! It'll be the last words you'll squeal on this earth, little Piggy!"

"Who're you calling' little, stretch marks? I'm taller'n you AND better looking!"

"AGGH! You STUPID MORTAL! In 15 minutes it WON'T MATTER! I've called in a nuclear strike on this cabin courtesy of the U. S. Army and Trioxin!" 

He was about to lose his MIND with the arrogance of this stupid human! 

"Trioxin, huh? What's that? A new form of Bleach? Anyway, porcupine, gotta go. You calling a 'nuclear strike' and all."

Krueger was so unnerved by the CAPABILITY of this man that he never thought to use his supernatural abilities. And so, he lost his usual advantage. He was FLABBERGASTED. He had NEVER met a man like this! And because of this, Ash gained the upper hand and walked away with his life.

Ash slowly walked down the stairs and backed Krueger into a corner, holding his severed hand.

"You still got your hand?" Ash asked. "Um, yeah, right here." He said, uncertain and taken aback by the sheer AUDACITY of this man. "Well, you're gonna need it. Because when I get done with you, they're gonna use it to Identify the pieces." The chainsaw revved to a high whine.

"No, NO, NOOOOO!"

He didn't chop him up. He didn't have time.

He just took his glove. The supernatural source of his power, it represented physically and psychologically his station in the underworld. And without it he was powerless.

It was Ash's insurance policy that the primate wouldn't fuck with him 'til he got away.

7 Minutes. 

He got into his Olds and gunned the engine to life. "C'mon, baby. Be nice to daddy."

Spitting rocks and leaves onto the dirt road he raced toward the bridge and a greater chance of life.

If they were using a tactical nuclear warhead on the cabin it would be a low yield job and he MIGHT have a small chance of living through this. He remembered watching t. v. footage of Nuclear shell tests in the Nevada desert as a child: The obscenely awe inspiring shot of a 155mm howitzer firing off a round and then after about a minute, a Mushroom cloud, rising into the sky.He increased his speed, already dangerous.

_At least I won't have to worry about that damn book! It'll be atomized along with the cabin. Maybe I should have brought it with me just to be sure. Ah, the hell with it!_

As he passed over the old wooden Suspension Bridge, **_It_** hit. He wasn't expecting it, but no one is EVER prepared for a Nuclear Weapon. Ash was right. It WAS a low yield 'tactical' Nuclear shell. Delivered by a U. S. ARMY rail gun off of a sidetrack expressly reserved for that purpose, Ash didn't even hear the explosion. Five miles away from the cabin was enough. He missed the blast radius and the lethal doses of short wave radiation (the gamma rays and neutrons that kill instantly) but was caught by the shock wave.

When he woke up, he was lying on the floor of the chasm. In his **pajamas**! _What the fuck?! _Just a second ago he was in jeans and a shirt!_ Did I dream all this shit? _Out of his car and badly bruised, he didn't seem to have any broken bones. The bridge spanning the chasm was gone. All that was left was the debris at his feet. Where was the car? He didn't know. It didn't seem to be anywhere he could see. Neither in the mess around him nor at the top of the cliffs a hundred feet above. More importantly, where's the glove and the hand inside? If that Freddy joker was anything like a standard Deadite, that thing'd be crawling around somewhere, trying to choke him. Better look for it. As he panned through the rubble he didn't really think how lucky he was: he survived a Nuclear blast, bested a creature stronger than he ever was aware of and seemed to have taken care of the necromicon once and for all. All Apparently done in his dreams. _Nothing could've survived that blast, could it?_

Ash looked through the debris, unaware that he was covered in his namesake.

The Blast obliterated all traces of the cabin, and once and for all destroyed a nexus point for the entrance of evil into this world. But there were many more places for it to come through. Oh so many more. More than you can ever count in a lifetime. Some of them were people (like John Wayne Gacy), some of them were places like the cabin, and other things were artifacts like the glove and book.

And surprisingly, (or maybe, not considering the nature of the objects) the book and glove survived.

They were both blown clear of the blast, intact.

The book remained dormant for decades, but the glove took someone almost immediately after being put on....


End file.
